


there's some shit we can't forget

by juggyjones



Series: in this universe, we're fighters [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5x13, Canon Compliant, aka two pessimists are optimistic, clarphy brotp, i miss their dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggyjones/pseuds/juggyjones
Summary: “It’s all been a lie, hasn’t it?” He motions vaguely in the direction of the planet. “Everyone said Earth would be our haven, the place where we’ll thrive again. But we keep on destroying it, instead.”Clarke’s hand drops from his shoulder and her smile falls, too. So I'm not the only one thinking like this.“Break the cycle,” she says. “That’s what Jasper said in his suicide note.”---or, clarke and murphy have a conversation before going to sleep.





	there's some shit we can't forget

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt 'it's all been a lie, hasn't it?' by laurie (@bellofthesky on tumblr)

The Eligius ship is falling asleep.

From the entrance into the cryo chambers, where only days ago he played soccer with Raven, he watches as parents put their kids to sleep, first. It’s a lot quieter than he expected – the fact that they’ll see each other in a decade after what will feel like only a good night’s sleep—which they all need—is a heavy burden.

He’s already bid most of his goodbyes. Raven is down at the back of the room with Zeke, overlooking as parents climb in next to the kids. Bellamy is with Echo, overlooking the middle, and Clarke with Madi a few feet from him. Emori is asleep already. She doesn’t like goodbyes, and neither does he.

He walks away from the room in silence. His shoulder is aching even after the operation, and it'll take over ten years to heal.

 _Ha_. The thought makes him laugh.

He finds what he’s looking for after a minute or two, right where they decided the fate of humanity only hours ago. It was the smart, survivalist choice, with no one to suffer.

The planet looks like the head of a match. Scorched in most places, dead and gone in others, and where they left their final mark, the flames are still ablaze.

Their _home_.

“Murphy,” comes Clarke’s voice from behind him. He doesn’t turn around. “Everyone should be in the cryo room.”

“It will take hours, anyway.”

“We’re almost halfway through putting them to sleep. We saved you a spot, next to Emori.”

“You didn’t need to.”

Even if he can't see her—his eyes are still mesmerized by the sight before him—he knows she’s taken aback. “I know it’s not my place, but—”

“She left me. Back in space. I’m not sure where we stand at the moment.”

Clarke places a hand on his good shoulder, stepping beside him. She has a compassionate smile on her face when he finally looks at her. Her eyes fall on the deteriorating planet before them and the smile falters, but he can see the hope in her eyes.

“Maybe in ten years’ time she’ll feel a little differently.”

Murphy lets out a dry laugh. Same kind of survivalist, nihilistic sense of humour.

He missed her.

“It’s all been a lie, hasn’t it?” He motions vaguely in the direction of the planet. “Everyone said _Earth_ would be our haven, the place where we’ll thrive again. But we keep on destroying it, instead.”

Clarke’s hand drops from his shoulder and her smile falls, too. _So I'm not the only one thinking like this._

“Break the cycle,” she says. “That’s what Jasper said in his suicide note.”

“God, that’s fucking depressing.”

“He’s right. We keep ruining what little good we have in our lives, destroying what we value most. Do we really deserve to live like this?”

It seems to him that she’s expecting an answer, so he says, “Jesus, _Griffin_.”

“Sorry. It’s been on my mind lately.”

It’s been on his, too, but he’s not going to admit it. “Let’s hope when we wake up in ten years and go back down, we’ll be smarter.”

“We’ll be the only people. There won’t be fighting for land, no enemies, nothing. Just—”

“—a fresh beginning. Yeah, we could all use a little of that.”

Clarke smiles again, and this time, he thinks she looks a bit cheered up. He’s not really used to being an optimist and she isn’t one, either, so the two of them trying to be hopeful together is surprising to have worked.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’ll be a fresh start. Peace, where they can live without fear, and he can figure out how to be himself when there is no war to fight.

Somehow, he knows she’s thinking the same thing.

“Come on,” says Clarke. “Let’s go to sleep.”


End file.
